Sunkissed
by exocontinual protocols
Summary: [I don’t think I’m being cold. My tone of voice isn’t particularly cold. It’s not exactly warm and welcoming either, but what did he expect?] DairineRoshaun
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Hold on, let me look in the mirror real fast…no, I'm not anymore Diane Duane than I was five minutes ago. -sigh- **

1.)

"Hello," I said.

From the look in his eyes I might as well have shot an arrow through his heart. Well, what he sees is what he gets, and he has no right to complain. I don't think I'm being cold. My tone of voice isn't particularly cold. It's not exactly warm and welcoming either, but what did he expect? For me to forgive him over night? Maybe at one time, it would have been that easy, or easier, at least. But not anymore, not now that this had become something so much bigger then what he did and what he didn't do to right it afterward. No, the truth of the matter is that it's just too late for him to go back. If he can't handle that that's his problem.

I'm sure he expected that if he made it out of his little stunt alive I'd come running into his arms. That I'd appreciate what he'd done, that I'd be happy, grateful…I don't _think_ so. I hope he enjoyed his time away, because it's the last bit of rest he's going to get for a while. Until he gives up on me and leaves, at any rate, which it seems won't be for a while. Oh, well. He can't keep this balancing act up for long. I'll just have to wait him out.

"Hello," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, wonderfully," I said.

It was a lie and he knew it. Wizards aren't supposed to do that, I knew. Part of me was amazed I had kept my wizardry for this long. _Wizardry does not live in the unwilling soul. _Sure, I was a willing soul, or more like a soul desperately clinging to its wizardry. I didn't know where I would be without it, without other people's problems to throw myself into, to be able to solve the way I can't my own, and without access to the motherboard and the mobiles. But surely there must be some clause that states wizardry will not live in the soul which has changed so much it is no longer the sort that deserves it in the first place. "_Wizardry does not live in the selfish, lying, empty soul_" sounds about right. The Powers must be disgusted by me by now. Or maybe, just maybe, they're on my side. Maybe they understand. If so they're the only ones. They probably still wouldn't appreciate me lying, anyway. But what harm could lying about how well I slept have done, anyway? Would it make me suddenly well rested? I'll take my chances.

"I certainly hope so, you've been looking like you needed it," he said.

There was a time when such a comment would send me flying off the handle, or at the very least I'd flash one of my famous the-hell-with-you smiles, seething inside. But now it just goes over my head. We're living in too different realities and the fact that he doesn't even realize it is enough to make everything he says meaningless.

"Have you had breakfast?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

His expression darkened slightly but for the most part his face retained his mask of indifference.

"You said that yesterday at dinner," he said, his tone carefully not showing any concern, as if it were those most natural thing in the world to notice and comment on.

"I haven't been in the mood to eat much lately," I said honestly.

"You should really eat more," he said, guise beginning to slip.

I shrugged, "Perhaps, but I don't."

And I turned to leave.

"Dairine," he said.

I didn't turn around.

"Dairine," he said again.

His voice was firmer that time, his tone almost commanding, but I still made no move to show I heard him.

"_Dairine_," he said loudly, and the word seemed to fill the room and rebound off the walls, coming at me from every direction.

I didn't blink.

He walked over to me swiftly and took my arm, stopping me and turning me around. His face was calm, but his eyes showed me everything I needed to know. In them there was anger, but hidden behind that was something like fear, and behind that something that I didn't have time to decipher because he kissed me.

He _kissed_ me.

The impression I got, unsurprisingly, was of the sun. A bright, golden orange filled my vision and a roaring sounded in my ears. Heat, power, radiance; the sensations washed over me one after another, forming a whole that was purely Roshaun. I felt warmth seeping into my body, and for a moment my frozen heart seemed to thaw. Then he pulled away, and, quick as a flash, icy shackles re-clamped around my heart.

The connection faded, but the moment before it had I got a fleeting since of what he was feeling. He finally got it. He had known I was mad at him but he hadn't really understood…and now he did. I guess he'd gotten as deep a look into my mind as I had into his. Well, maybe he'd leave me alone now.

I walked away. He didn't try to stop me, just stood where he was, still trying to process this new information. There was a time when to have confused him so thoroughly would have made me extremely pleased. But that time had long passed.

**AN: I don't know if it's that good…should I even continue? I might end up just taking it down…**

**Review, please! Feedback of any kind is appreciated. Even just a "good" "bad" or "s'alright" would make my day :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. The settings aren't mine. Diane Duane's stuff isn't mine. Let's just say that if all you think about is what's mine, you won't be thinking very long.**

**AN: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It means a lot!**

2.)

He hadn't meant to leave me, I knew. But he'd known there was a possibility that he would, that it wouldn't work. So, he planned for the eventuality. Planned a little too well.

"_It hadn't occurred to me that I would be able to stop you," _he had said, that day on the moon, just before it all happened.

Only it had occurred to him. He wouldn't be able to stop me from helping, yes, but he could stop me from suffering the same fate he would, should the spell not work.

We were supposed to be doing the spell together, him, Spot and me. Doing it _together_, and lending each other power, to pack a greater punch. But the way he attached on to my power…I didn't realize it then, I thought I was being less effective because I was too worried about him to focus as closely as I should have been…but he had made himself a shield for me, in a way. He made it so my power cycled through him before reaching its final destination. That way, were the spell to rebound on and destroy the caster, it would reach him first and never get to me. And that's exactly what happened.

Only he wasn't destroyed. Instead, when he realized it wasn't going to work, he, almost subconsciously, drew the energy he had taken back, and it returned to the sun, pulling him with it. He should have died. He almost _did_ die. But there was enough of him left, or rather, enough of his power left, for the sun to latch on to and use, it being able to do so due to Roshaun having worked with it before.

For a while he was in a sort of coma inside the sun, his body in a state "unconscious" can't begin to describe. He wasn't alive, but he wasn't dead, and the only thing that kept him from dying was the constant flow of power going through him. Once he was completely together again he somehow managed to get back to the moon where he'd done the spell in the first place. Luckily I'd been there when it happened; I had been visiting the spot a lot since the incident.

I took him back and got him patched up and, had I had my way, I would have had nothing more to do with him after that. He wasn't very cooperative on that front, though.

Some, like my _dear_ sister, Nita, think I'm being harsh. To the point of being ridiculous, even. But they don't understand.

He treated me like a china doll that needed protection, as some damsel in distress. That by itself may not seem like so much, contrary to popular belief I can get past a wounded pride, but what he did was so _careless_…it just…if he hadn't done it the spell would have been more effective, and maybe it would have worked…okay, it probably wouldn't have, but when it rebounded it would have rebounded on all three of us and the results would have been spread out evenly rather then all going to him. No one would have disappeared.

He wanted to go out a hero. But it wasn't heroism, it was selfishness. If his plan didn't work he didn't want to live to see the consequences. I'm a wizard and it's my job, my duty, and my wish to do whatever it takes and to give my all to protect life, regardless of what may happen to me in the process. He made it so I didn't, _couldn't_ give a hundred percent. _That wasn't his choice to make_. He shouldn't have done this. Dying when it isn't necessary surely must speed up entropy. And so must breaking a wizard's heart.

And he did…all that time…and I knew he was _somewhere_, I…I shed so many tears over him. I couldn't eat, and when I did it would just come up again. I couldn't sleep and whenever I managed it I would see images of him…hurt…dead…blood everywhere…and I couldn't scrub my eyelids clean of them. I searched for him ruthlessly. I never gave up hope. And the hope hurt the most, it was a vulnerability that kept being attacked and couldn't be protected, like an open wound life keeps throwing dirt in but it never closes. I closed everything else, I stopped letting anyone in, I stopped letting the _world_ in, but my hope was the one thing that I still had thrown out there, just waiting to be stomped on and torn up and shattered by life. And it went through worse than that.

Nita and my dad and even Kit tried to talk to me. Sker'ret and Filif stopped by a few times. I was coolly polite to them all. I didn't want to hurt them but they didn't understand, they all thought I was in denial, that he was gone. Their attempts to comfort me only hurt me more.

I threw myself into finding him. I put everything I had into it, and every passing moment I hated him more for doing this to me. It got to the point where I almost didn't want to find him anymore but it was too late, I had made finding him the only focus of my life and without it I'd have been completely lost. It was the one hope I had.

And eventually I did find him, but only by chance, only by being at the right place at the right time, none of my efforts had really produced any results. Suddenly he was just there. Just _there_. The source of all my pain. He didn't protect me, he put me through the most haunting, plaguing torment I had ever been through and I came out of it only a shadow of the person I used to be. And there he was. He hurt to look at, but I healed him up nonetheless and after that I couldn't get him to leave. The one thing that was supposed to help me only made my anguish all the worse. And just like that I didn't have hope anymore either.

Someone who knew me before, but never very well, might say I'm as fiery as ever, but I'm a fire that's choking on its own smoke, and on the inside I'm cold.

"Dairine…"

**AN: Terrible? Boring? Confusing? All of the above? Yeah, I had trouble saying what I wanted to…what else is new? The next chapter will (hopefully) be better. It will be more eventful, anyway. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Please and thank you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No, I'm not Diane Duane, thank you for asking!**

**AN: Well, this chapter is a bit flangsty, just to warn you…and thank you, thank you, _thank you_ to the people who reviewed the last chapter!**

3.)

I turned around to face him. The look was a silent challenge. _Just you _try_ and fix what you've done_.

For a moment I saw a flash of something on his face, but then he hid his emotions once more, and—I couldn't believe it—the haughty indifference was back.

He straightened, looked away from me casually and opened his mouth, but I didn't need to hear what he was going to say. I recognized the stance, the look; he was going to make so superior comment in a bored, but dignified air, without doing me the courtesy of looking at or acknowledging me, as though he were speaking to the air beside him. No doubt he would somehow turn this around on me, because, of course, he would never do something as senseless or affectionate as kissing me since, obviously, he held no affection for me. Though he'd be sure to imply that that didn't mean I didn't hold affection for _him_, something that he found most amusing, while also implying, in a humoring sort of way, that it wasn't my fault I found him so attractive, and, in a stuck-up way, that it was only to be expected. He could do all that with one comment, too. And I didn't know whether it was more amazing or pathetic.

"You're unbelievable," I said before he was able to utter a syllable.

He turned to look at me, his face remaining carefully guarded.

"I'm done," I continued. "You've blown it. Maybe you don't care, but even if you do I'm sure after pretending long enough you'll convince yourself otherwise. Good-bye."

I walked away, not looking back.

"Dairine!"

The cry was panicked and slightly strangled.

I didn't care. Now he decided to show emotion? It was too late. I had, admittedly, to this point thought that, while he was the source of my anguish, it wasn't wholly and completely his fault for the sole purpose that he didn't know what he was doing to me. We were genuinely living in two different realities and part of me had thought that if he were to just see how things really were for me that we could work our way up from there, but it was hopeless. He would never change, and even if he did we'd never see eye-to-eye. Not unless he changed to the extremes that would cause me to lose any respect I had for him. There was no point. It couldn't work out. It was over.

Apparently he didn't get the message. Or so I gathered from the way he grabbed me, pulled me to him and pressed his lips to mine before I could even process what was happening.

It started out harsh and fierce.

_You aren't leaving me!_

I was astounded at the intensity of the thought and the fierceness of the other thoughts and feelings surging into me from him …He'd thought for hours on end trying to come up with a way to get through to me and wondering why I was so closed off. He hadn't known what to do. He hated not knowing what to, _hated_ it.

But then the ferocity seemed to dissolve away, and I felt a stream of emotions that surprised me infinitely more.

He was afraid. Afraid of loosing me, of doing something wrong and ruining this. Afraid he'd already lost me, already ruined this. Afraid he was too ruined for there to _be_ a 'this.'

He was sorry about what happened. Sorry and _angry_. He hadn't wanted to lose me. He hadn't known what to do. He hated not knowing what to do. It had been a plan, a since of direction to cling to. He had been thinking that he _could_ do it…but shouldn't, it wouldn't be right to do that to me…But then, in one confused and panicked moment, he just _did_ it, almost on instinct.

The last emotion was overwhelming. It was indescribable, even with the Speech. It melted the ice, entering my broken heart and filling it with a heavenly warmth that spread steadily though my entire body.

There was roaring, untamable fire, and warm, caressing sunlight. Sparks crackled through my skin. My stomach leapt. My heart leapt. A strange, sweet pressure was building inside me. I felt full to bursting, but whatever was filling me was something inexpressibly wonderful.

I melted against him, no longer resisting the kiss or the emotions it was causing me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how many of them he could see but it wasn't important. I finally got it, and so did he. Neither of us has ever been good with showing weakness or expressing our emotions, we were _afraid_ to when it came down to it. As a result of those fears we were sore losers with sensitive prides which made the possibility of ever becoming an _us_ almost nonexistent. We clashed. I knew this. I knew he wouldn't compliment me a lot and it would be a while before we were comfortable having deep discussions, talking about the future, or saying 'I love you.' But…that was okay. That was who we were. It didn't matter, despite what was or wasn't said I knew all I needed to know. In this moment, in his touch, in this sweet, searing kiss, I knew he cared. I could hear, see, feel, _taste _it. This, _this_ was real…

…but so was everything that had happened, and as blissful as this kiss was, it hurt to feel so good. This didn't fix everything. Nothing, at this point, could have done that.

He pulled away slowly and looked at me. His eyes were unsure, waiting to see what I'd do next. So was I.

It felt awkward and unnatural at first, but I managed to twist my face into a smirk.

"Can't keep you're hands off me today, can you?" I said.

Yes, I was teasing him, and in doing so I was forgiving him, letting him back in. And I knew it would just mean more pain. I was broken. So was he. We were two messed up, broken people. We were both in a living hell, that was our reality. But, it was _our_ reality. For now, that was enough.

"Ah, but who has gone limp on whom?" he said, returning my smirk.

He understood. We were acting just as we used to, but nothing was as it had been then. This was a _lie_. But we were communicating the truth on a different level.

Blushing, but—as bizarre as it felt—smiling, I scrambled backwards, away from him…but not too far.

There were a few more moments of teasing banter, smirks and blushes, awkwardness and ease. It was as though everything were okay again. It wasn't.

On our way back to the house I did something I'd only done once before. He hadn't needed it then, but we both did now. I took his hand.

**AN: Yeah…not so sure about this…I'll just have to see what my reviewers say, the kind, generous, wise souls that they are (hint, hint.)**

**Thank you for reading :)**


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